


i lend you, for a time, a child —

by gatheredfates (seafaringheart)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 02:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19714156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafaringheart/pseuds/gatheredfates
Summary: Have some Dad!cred/M(ini)filia because their dynamic hurts my soul, thanks. This drabble is not spoiler free so proceed at your own risk! Based after Amh Araeng second visit.





	i lend you, for a time, a child —

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe ShB brought me back to the fanfiction scene after something like two years away.  
> You can also find this work on tumblr @gatheredfates! Song inspo is Giving In by Saltillo.

> I’ll lend you, for a _little_ time, a **child** of mine.  
>  For you to **love** her while she lives and to _mourn_ her when she is dead.  
>  And from the throngs that crowd life’s lanes, I have selected ** _YOU._**

* * *

She was used his scowl by now. The hardness of dark eyes, the low growl in his remarks and resolute way he carried himself that spoke of duty rather than desire. Minfilia couldn’t blame him — not really. T’was a difficult ask to protect a phantom made manifest in the death of another, and Thancred had done so for five long years.

No matter how hard she tried, she knew she would never measure up. It was a fact she had forced herself to accept. To believe. Because the alternative was nothing but tears and cold nights huddled by the fire as his footsteps faded in the cacophony of forests, his voice as sharp as a wolf’s bite as he commanded her to sleep.

So what then was his smile when she returned?

 _‘He did it for_ _ **her,**_ ’ a dark voice reminded: a friend that clouded her thoughts and chased away the joy — reminding her that everything he did was not for _this_ Minfilia and _this_ world, but of a far off place of night and an oracle far worthier than she. But in the throes of that self-same doubt resonated a calmness born from that soul; the reminder that doubt was inevitable, but it was what she did with it.

Minfilia drew a hand to her breast, if only to draw further comfort for the light that rested inside. Hers was not the first that had been disappointed in him; the oracle knew it all too well. The vice of anger was no better then that of liquor and women, and though she had been more forceful in her dismay there was little that had been gained in the act. One could not change the manner of another from word alone — it was action, or sometimes inaction, that prompted the shift. 

“Ryne.”

Even now the name was foreign on the ears, one she almost ignored until the reminder of its gift gave pause to lift her head. Ignoring the blood that rushed to her face she peered curiously at him, the stoicism a poor disguise for the turbulence of emotion, as was the idle clenching of his fists. Ryne — like the fae. Blessing. Not a burden. She was not a burden.

“There are things I need to say to you. Things you need to _know._ ” Was it the pain of battle or realisation that wounded him so? He could not even look at her, though for once the pang was not of longing as he denied her but of a wish not to see him suffer so. Her hand reached for him. 

“You need not —” she began, but the sharp look silenced the protest and drew it back, afraid of what further protest might entail. Already she felt herself keenly under his eye; the shift of pupil from her hair and to her eyes. The path she walked robbed her of those once-similarities, furthering the reminder that she was _not_ Minfilia.

 _‘T’is alright to hesitate,’_ came that calming voice, and it was all she could do to take heart in it. Minfilia knew Thancred better than most. Her presence, the gentle calm, was a small comfort.

‘Remember, you are _**Ryne**_.’

Then came the hard bob of his Adam’s apple, warning her of what was to come.

“You deserved better than what I gave you.” Thancred’s statement was brief and matter-of-fact, but it was enough to break the resolve she tried to forge in the vain hope of reassuring him. Her tongue moved inside her mouth — a thousand words she might have spoken — yet all of them fell short. There was little doubt in her mind he saw it, yet he persisted.

“You are your own person. Oracle or no. It was cruel of me to focus on the second—”

“But you kept me _safe_ ,” she choked, desperate for him to not torment himself so. Though it was enough to spur a crooked smile in him, it was not enough to calm the anxiety in her. ~~Minfilia~~ Ryne held her hands up to her face, close to shielding her face from the tears that threatened to spill if only to spare him the embarrassment. But as quickly as she attempted he resisted, and one hand closed around both of her own. “You taught me how to fight — h-how to protect myself.”

“And I should have been doing it for you.”

The sob was unintentional as it wracked through her body, drawing her ribs in painfully as Ryne allowed the tears she had been holding to fall free. Though it was her gravest fear that her lack of control might rob her of his kindnesses, she instead found her hands being gently tugged, bringing her closer to Thancred’s comfort. A comfort she knew she had sorely needed.

“You don’t need to defend me, it makes the whole thing awkward.” Despite the tears she giggled, and through the water clouding her eyes she swore she could make out his smile too. “We are family, you and I. I’m sorry it took me so long to see it. But I _will_ protect you, Ryne, no matter the choices you make.”

“I w-won’t give up on us. On the Scions —” She knew he didn’t need the reassurance, but she gave it all the same. A bad habit. Thancred reached out and, with a gentle hand, placed it ‘pon the back of her head. Without even thinking about it, she threw her arms around his middle and held him close. “I promise you, I promise you —”

“I know, I know,” he said in turn, calloused hand calmly stroking her hair. His voice was warm. “I believe in you.”

> Now will you give her all your **LOVE,**  
>  Nor think the labour _vain,_   
>  Nor **hate** me when I come to call to _take_ her back again?


End file.
